


D.I.D.

by HalicanDrops



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Multi, Multiple Personalities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 16:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalicanDrops/pseuds/HalicanDrops
Summary: Dissociative Personality Disorder. DID.It's exceedingly rare and incurable. That's what they diagnosed him with. At this point I don't even know if I'm real or not.I've been with Ryoma since the beginning and I'm not going to be leaving anytime soon. I'm content with just being Ryoma's companion for the rest of time. We never took into account what would happen if people found out about me.





	D.I.D.

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece I've had for awhile. Might continue might not?

Dissociative Personality Disorder. DID.  
It's exceedingly rare and incurable. That's what they diagnosed him with. At this point I don't even know if I'm real or not.  
I lived a normal life. I had teenage depression and anxiety but I got through life okay. At age 25, I died in a freak mass shooting in a locked down mall. When my consciousness had returned, I was in the same body of another, a small boy of age five.  
His name was Echizen Ryoma. I was a stranger looking into the life of a young child and caused him to become diagnosed with DID.  
Ryoma accepted me with open arms. He talked to me whenever we were alone or with the precious furball Karupin he got at age 8. He willingly let me take control of his body to let me do what I wanted. Ryoma was the best “host” I could ever hope for.  
In return for his kindness I did my best to protect Ryoma and lead him in correct directions. Ryoma, was my everything. I had nothing else.  
No one ever knew about the fact that Ryoma had someone else inside his head. He was taught how to hide it all. I knew that I could be forever satisfied to just be by Ryoma’s side forever.  
Then we moved to Japan.  
Nothing was the same.

* * *

 

The place I stayed at while not in control was a place I just called Ryoma’s brain. It was the size of a medium living room with bookcases lining all the walls, books filled to the brim. A comfy couch was placed in the center, facing a large television screen.  
At this very moment I was hugging a pillow as I laid down on the couch, looking at what Ryoma saw through the screen.  
“Honestly,” I voiced, “You've been in Japan for a week and you're already playing in a tournament.”  
Ryoma rolled his eyes at that, making the world turn from the screen, replying only mentally, _“It's not even a big tournament.”_  
I sighed, “Still,” I murmured, “I'm worried.”  
Ryoma chooses not to respond and I take that in stride.  
The bad feeling I have doesn't really ever disappear, but the time had gone by so much that both Ryoma and I just brushed it off.  
The change comes when the sun is setting.

* * *

 

Even my breath catches in my metaphysical throat as Ryoma struggles against his new team captain.  
In the end, Ryoma loses. And in his exhausted state I can’t help but take control for two seconds and glare at the older teen for making Ryoma suffer, for making him take on a responsibility he shouldn't necessarily have to shoulder.  
Tezuka Kunimitsu, the most unemotional teen I've ever seen, takes a step back in surprise. Before I can anything else, Ryoma takes control again just as quickly as I had.  
“What…”  
Both Ryoma and I flinch at that word. Ryoma stands up quickly and redirects the captain's attention elsewhere.  
But even as Ryoma does his best, the teen still stares at us dubiously.  
That was the first time being in control around Ryoma’s friends. And it wasn't my last.

* * *

 

I can feel the adrenaline running through Ryoma’s veins and my metaphysical tense body jumps up, “Ryoma!” I repeat, “This isn't the time to-”  
Ryoma refuses to listen and runs his body across the slick tennis court, throwing his power into his forehand swing, water flying everywhere.  
Across the court, Fuji Syuusuke does the same thing. Then Ryoma and Fuji make eye contact.  
My impression of Fuji Syuusuke was that the teen was remarkably short for a third year. That he seemed almost deceptively beautiful, that he was hiding something. The good news was that I was right. The bad news was that I missed one key factor.  
Ryoma’s emerald eyes looks into Fuji’s sapphire and all of us stop. The breath catches in both mine and Ryoma’s throats, a wide grin spread across our faces as the feeling of adrenaline and pure joy rock my body. It's as if time stops and we’re in our own little cliche world.  
It's the call of Ryoma’s coach that brings me back. Me.  
“FUJI! ECHIZEN! WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING?!”  
I immediately assumed control of Ryoma’s body, snapping my gaze away from the heavily breathing and beautiful blue eyed senpai of my host. I saw Ryuuzaki Sumire standing at the doorway of the club room, anger on her face.  
I turn back to Fuji and nearly recoil in surprise. Instead of a wide smile, I see a frown, his eyes sharpened onto me.  
_“Oi!”_  
I immediately slip away from control and Ryoma takes it back, sending his senpai one last look before heading back to the club room.

* * *

 

This isn't someone I would call Ryoma’s friend, but something among the lines of a rival. Because even though I’m well over thirty at this point, Sanada Genichirou is fucking terrifying.  
It all started after a really long practice.  
While I was metaphysically fine, I could somewhat feel the strain Ryoma felt on his muscles. Ryoma was preparing for a match with Rikkaidai Fuzoku and practices just kept longer and longer as time went by.  
Ryoma stopped on his way home and promised to get up in a few minutes.  
That’s when we heard it.  
“Our match with Seigaku? Nah, I’m not interested in it.” an arrogant voice filtered into our ears.  
I felt dread fill me.  
There was a small chuckle and a deeper voice answered back, “Did it come as a shock to you, Akaya? That someone else beat Tezuka before you?”  
Ryoma immediately began to move. I stood up out of my seat, “Ryoma, no! You just got out of practice!”  
The brat ignored me.  
The other teen, presumably Kirihara Akaya from my research, just scoffed, “The rest of them are small-fries. Only Tezuka was able to play real tennis.”  
“Oi,” I kicked the side of the couch with my foot angrily as Ryoma spoke, “I can play real tennis, wanna see?”  
Kirihara Akaya and Jackal Kuwahara turned back at us. Jackal frowned, “Who is this kid? You know him Akaya?”  
A sinister grin came to Akaya’s face as he recognized the Seigaku uniform, “There’ll be a high price to pay.... Echizen Ryoma.”  
Before I knew it, we were at a tennis court in a tennis club.  
At first, the two seemed evenly matched. Then, they both took off their weights. Ryoma was soon forced to play on the defensive. This Kirihara Akaya was much too fast and strong for Ryoma in his exhausted state.  
The moment that ball hit Ryoma’s knee, painful enough for me to feel it, I saw the red in the opponent's eyes.  
“Ryoma are you okay?” I asked quietly.  
_“I'm fine.”_ was his short response.  
I frowned deeply but said nothing.  
Kirihara crushed the ball in his left hand and went to serve.  
Jackal’s cry was our only warning, “Akaya! Are you seriously trying to destroy your opponent?!”  
Again and again the second year ace served, hitting Ryoma in the same knee over and over.  
Even as Ryoma was sent flying because the impact, I said nothing as he stood up again.  
The match was reaching its end and Ryoma was about to give out. Match point at Kirihara had a dunk smash at his ready.  
Suddenly, memories started to flash around us. The screen grew white and I suddenly gasped as the screen came back, seeing the ball land beside Kirihara.  
Something was definitely off, judging by the fact that a metaphysical form of Ryoma had appeared on my couch, unconscious. Everyone was staring at us wordlessly. Then Ryoma’s body’s mouth opened, “ **You still have a long way to go.** ” he murmured in English.  
Service ace after Service ace, Ryoma’s body was serving while no one was in exact control. It was more like the repressed part of Ryoma’s unconsciousness that even I can’t access had taken control and was using all the moves he had encountered in his tennis career. From Akutsu, to Yuuta, to Hiyoshi.  
Just like that, the match was over. The body moved to pick up it’s bag and began to walk out, only to meet the eyes of someone I recognized, Sanada Genichirou.  
A second later, the screen darkened and I realized what was happening. The unconscious was receding and Ryoma wasn't there to fill the body’s control.  
I reacted quickly, snapping into control and pulling myself out of the teen’s sturdy arms, wincing when I realized I stepped back onto my right leg.  
The teen’s deep voice brought me back to reality, “You…”  
I looked up and saw the steel eyes looking at me incredulously.  
I looked away stubbornly and lowered my cap like Ryoma typically did. I held my head high and did my best not to limp as I walked out of the court and away from the Rikkaidai members.  
I pulled out my phone once I was good distance away and pulled out Ryoma’s phone, calling number 2 on speed dial.  
“What is it, gaki?” came the familiar gruff voice.  
“It’s me, Nanjiroh-san. I might need some help.”  
That was all it took for Echizen Nanjiroh to drive all the way to Kanegawa to pick Ryoma up while I iced the injured knee with a cold drink.

* * *

 

 _“Oi, do you know what happened? All I remember is Kirihara starting to attack my knee.”_  
I shook my head, “No, I was trying to lessen the pain you were feeling and eventually passed out.” I lied to Ryoma as he walked to the club room.  
Ryoma let out a sigh, _“But Kirihara’s red eyes were kinda scary. He's some kind of monster.”_  
I agreed with a small grunt.

* * *

 

I could feel a shiver go down my metaphysical spine as all the Rikkaidai members’ eyes focused on Ryoma.  
Momoshiro leaned over and hissed, “All of them seem to staring at you Echizen, what did you do?”  
Ryoma shrugged, “I didn't do anything…”  
_“Did you?”_ he asked me mentally.  
I frowned, “Like I said, I passed out. I've never seen them.”  
Ryoma hummed thoughtfully.

* * *

 

Unbridled anger filled me when I recovered from shock of what had happened before my eyes.  
“That bastard!”  
_“O-oi, what- calm down!”_  
I pulled at my hair angrily, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN CALM DOWN? THAT COULD HAVE KILLED YOU RYOMA?!”  
_“O-oi…_ ”  
“AND ANOTHER THING! YOU'RE WAY TOO RECKLESS! YOU RAN STRAIGHT FOR THE GODDAMN LIGHT FALLING ON THE COURT! WHAT IDIOT DOES THAT?”  
_“Let’s just forget about, okay? I'm fine right?”_ Ryoma tried to appease me.  
“HELL NO. I'm giving that pretty boy a piece of my mind!”  
_“You can't-”_  
As the light fixture that Atobe Keigo had knocked down was getting cleaned up, I began to constantly fight Ryoma for control, taking turns of taking the offensive and glaring heatedly at Atobe across the court.  
Each time though, I would see a thoughtful look appear on Atobe’s face as he held a hand up to his face, his ice cold eyes staring right into Ryoma’s.

* * *

 

I could feel a vein about to burst as a voice entered my ears, “...I see a lot of people here. So what's exactly going on?” Ryoma’s voice asked.  
“EH?!” entered my ears even louder.  
As Momoshiro explained the situation I was forced to look at Ryoma’s tennis racket, Ryoma’s fingers playing with the string.  
I glanced backwards behind me and let out a sigh as the rather ethereal and misty form of my host’s consciousness lying on the couch.  
“Amnesia?!” someone exclaimed loudly.  
I sighed as I recalled Nanjiroh making Ryoma stand above a river on a slippery rock with a stick and a pebble, trying to hit it like a tennis ball and racket. Ryoma's foot and slipped and he hit his head on a rock, making this happen.  
As the damn amnesiac conscious of Ryoma continued to say stupid things about the match and act completely out of character, my annoyance grew.  
That’s when I hear a shocked “Fu-Fuji-senpai?”  
Almost immediately the Ryoma lying on the couch becomes less pale. Hope fills me immediately.  
Ryoma’s wrist is grabbed, “Echizen! Come with me!”  
“Uh, Momo where are you off to?” Takamura asks, shocked by Momoshiro’s sudden behaviour.  
I decide to take them out of their misery.  
“I would say the same thing, but I think I know what you're trying to do,” I speak loudly, earning me attention as I break Momoshiro’s grip on Ryoma’s wrist. I rub at the wrist to rub the soreness away, “You’re trying to get Ryoma’s memories back by making him play tennis,” I look up and see shocked faces looking at me, “And I'm here to tell you that you're right.”  
“EHHHH?!” the freshmen trio asked loudly.  
I didn't even glance at them as I continued to stare down the gaping Momoshiro.  
“What- what are you talking about Echizen?” Takamura asked with wide eyes.  
“No, Taka-san.” my eyes move to Fuji immediately who stares right back with his blue eyes open, “That isn't the Echizen we know.”  
I sigh, “Well you're partially right. It would be more accurate to say that I'm not Echizen Ryoma.”  
Immediately Tezuka is on me, “Explain.” he commands bluntly.  
I rub at the back of my head, “Ryoma was diagnosed with DID when he was little. I've been with Ryoma for as long as I remember as a different entity. I don't take control of Ryoma’s body very often nor do I try to mess with Ryoma but when he fell from the rock I tried to take the damage but I was too late.” I explained as quickly as I could, “Now a really pale Ryoma lies on my couch and only regained a bit of color when that idiot of unconscious left behind recognized Fuji-san.”  
Momoshiro gave me a hard look, “Hold on this isn't some kind of stupid prank is it?”  
Before I could say anything, Fuji spoke up, “No. I've met you before.”  
I flinched and turned to the slighter taller teen, “As I thought…” I murmured.  
Fuji stepped closer to me, “After my match with Ryoma in the rain. You were the one that brought us out of that state.”  
“I also saw you.”  
I turned to Tezuka with wide eyes.  
Tezuka turned to me fully, “You glared at me after my match with Echizen under the tracks.”  
I nod carefully, “Yes, but that isn’t what’s important. If you get that amnesiac conscious to play tennis I have no doubt that Ryoma will gain at least some of his memories.”  
Momoshiro tapped his foot impatiently, “Well? Then bring him back!”  
I frowned, “On one condition.”

* * *

 

Pride. Ryoma has lead his team to nationals and won, and all I can feel is pride.  
“I’m so proud of you Ryoma.”  
_“We did it… we actually did it!”_  
That thought repeated in Ryoma’s mind and I watched as he mindlessly celebrated with his senpai around him.  
“Boya.”  
Ryoma turns at the voice and I feel a hint of fear break through of Ryoma’s excitement as Yukimura Seiichi approaches it.  
I immediately take control, “Yukimura-san.” I greet.  
He gives me a curious look, “You…” he trails off before shaking his head, “Tennis is fun, right?”  
I feel Ryoma’s emotions well up within me and I can’t help but smile, “Yeah.” I reply breathily.  
The blue haired beauty just smiles, “How curious.”  
I raise an eyebrow at that, “What is?”  
He shakes his head and holds out a hand, “Congratulations boya, I expect great things from the both of you.”  
Panic pushes me out of control and Ryoma assumes control, “Both?” he asks over the noise around us.  
Yukimura just sends us a mysterious smile before walking away to where his team is waiting.

* * *

 

"What's your condition?"

"You never mention to Ryoma that you know about my existence."


End file.
